


The Bass, The Rock, The Mic

by Sewer_Apostate



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sewer_Apostate/pseuds/Sewer_Apostate
Summary: A simple band AU of Apex Legends, my first fic ever!
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

The sweat dripping down Hounds back after a performance is always welcome, helps them cool down after straining their lungs so much. It always reminded them that they still lived, that the adoring crowds screaming their name were real, and that, most of all, the touch on the mic stand and the lingering kisses from their adoring groupies were, in fact, there.

But Hound is different today, today they feel even more withdrawn as the stagehands scrabble to find Hounds water bottle. And when Hound is approached by someone offering to give them a good time, they politely declined, throwing on their leather jacket and stalking off to their apartment to get a good night’s rest.

They step out of the back ways, flanked by bouncers, which aren’t exactly needed, seeing as Hound is all whipcord muscle underneath their trusted hoodie. On their way home, they spy a small cat being called home, probably multiple shady activities in alleys and their best friend and confidante, Ajay, otherwise known by her stage name “Lifeline”. Hound moved unnoticed, trying to slip away before Ajay could claw into them with medical questions about how their lungs were feeling. Ajay used to be the head doctor at the local hospital before she left to pursue her career as a drumming sensation. And boy, can she play those drums, she plays them so well, Hound doesn’t even mind hearing them down the street at four am. Ok…Maybe that’s exaggeration.

Anyway, as Hound was slinking back behind the dumpsters, trying to get away as fast as possible, Ajay yelled out “Hound ya can come out, ya ain’t a possum.” Ajay watches as Hound slowly emerges from their hiding place, a worried expression wrought upon her features. “How are ya sugar? Any issues breathin’?” Hound shakes their head, “Well ya know ya can always tell me if ya need to take a break. I’m sure your adorin’ fans won’t mind one bit.” Hound rolls their eyes, scars scrunching and un-scrunching under their stage makeup, “Easy for you to say, you’re in a band, other members are there to pick up your slack.” Ajay mocks offense at that.

They talk for a while afterwards, Ajay almost never brings up a conversation bloodhound doesn’t want to have, and when she does it’s for a good reason, such as Hound’s health. This is what made them such great friends, always knowing when to push forward and pull back.

Suddenly, in the middle of conversing, Ajay’s smile turned black, “Ya ain’t feelin’ ya’self today, Hound?” Hound’s expression under their makeup dropped slowly when they realized she wasn’t going to drop the subject, or make a hilarious quip. “It’s nothing, Ajay, really.” They say. “Liah, you know you’re a real good liah, If I didn’t know ya so well I wouldn’t know ya were lyin’” Hound sighed, realizing she really wanted to talk about this. “It’s just that I feel hollow, Ajay. The groupies’ touch and honeyed words mean nothing if they are lying, and I know they are.” Ajay looks worried now, “Sugah if ya need some company I’ve got just the thing.” Hound looks at her, eyebrow raised, “A party will help ya get back on your love train!” Hound groans at that, “Parties, Ajay, have never been my forte.” Ajay laughs, “No they really haven’t, but this one at least has people you have a common interest with.” Hound’s eyes lighten up a bit at that, “Music!” She exclaims. Oh. They’d thought it would’ve been whittling. “You thought I was gonna say whittling di’nt’cha?” Hound chuckles a bit, “There was a time when you would be called a witch, you know.” Ajay guffaws, “An’ witches are cool!” Hound rolls their eyes as Ajay hands them a colorful flyer, “Ma friend Octavio’s hostin’ this one!” Hound looks the flyer over, deciding that one break for the famed hunter of the Gods, couldn’t be so bad, right?

Right?


	2. Deviled Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so bear with me,,, deviled eggs.

It could be that bad. As many times as Hound had tried to ignore it, people were staring. Apparently, they’d gained a reputation as a “mysterious” and “elusive” figure. This they found funny as the last time someone called them that was…. Was when Uncle Arthur died. They had been a recluse, shutting themselves away in their room, until the social worker told them they found a family for Hound to go to. Suddenly the crowd is too much and the taste of lingering wine is too much, and the makeup they wore to hide their scars was all. Too. Much.

They were just walking less than gracefully up the stairs to hide in the bathroom, at least they hoped there was a bathroom somewhere up there, when they were approached by the host of the party himself, Octavio Silva. His dyed green hair could be spotted a mile away, but he still managed to sneak up on Hound.

“Hola Compadre! How are you enjoying la fiesta?” Hound looked at Octavio, unshed tears still in their eyes, Octavio didn’t seem to notice, or pretended not to for Hound’s pride, as they conversed, Hound couldn’t stop staring at the wall behind him. Octavio was snapping his fingers in front of their face, they realized. “Wow, amigo, you sure are spacing, are you ok?” Hound gasped for air, not realizing they were holding it in for so long, “I’m quite alright Octavio, thank you.” Octavio grinned, “Hey you know my name, Ajay tell you it? She tell you any stories?” Hound smiled a bit, at the mention of their friend, they became much calmer.

“None worth mentioning,” They say thinking to the way the amputee’s legs were blown off, “Where is Ajay anyway?” Octavio smiles, a toothy thing, and shoves Hound towards the direction of a snack table. “If she isn’t there now, she definitely will be there in a minute or two!” Octavio leans in to Hound’s ear, “The deviled eggs are her favorite, and I put them all there.” Hound smiles, a little weakly, and makes their way to the snack table.

There are, in fact, deviled eggs, and they are, in fact, delicious. But Hound is feeling a bit lost, Ajay hasn’t come for them, and Hound is starting to get a tiny bit worried. The party is winding down, people are heading home, and Hound still feels uneasy. They are thinking of all the things that might have happened, terrible things that could have happened to Ajay. They’re about to go and find her, fleeing from the relative safety of the snack table, when someone smacks them on the shoulder. It’s Ajay! And she has a very drunk, very flushed from alcohol Octavio on her arm.

“Hey Hound! How are ya?” Hound is relieved to see her okay that they pull her into a hug, Octavio still on her arm, and then awkwardly shuffling away, giving them some relative privacy. “I was thinking about some things, bad things that happened to me.” Ajay sighs, “Ahm sorry Hound I didn’t know if the crowd would be too much for ya or not, but I hoped you’d make some friends.” Hound smiles, “Thank you for having my best interest at heart, Ajay.” Ajay looks around the room, and calms Hound down by pointing out all of the musicians still there, telling them about the bands they operate in, or if they work solo.

But one catches Hound’s eye. A man, with brown, curly hair, he has a smile plastered on his face, but underneath, Hound can tell he’s just as nervous as they are.


End file.
